A Mother's Prayer
by Valairy Scot
Summary: How do parents of Forcesensitive children handle the goodbye? When the child becomes wellknown, as ObiWan Kenobi became in the Clone Wars, how does his parents react? This is a companion piece to a Mother's Prayer, though the intent is not to make the b


"Today, my son died. Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, died. My son." I may have appeared calm, but deep inside I was coiled with grief. I had given him up, my son, to the Jedi soon after his birth. I had not known I would have to give him up twice. I stared at the sky, bright sparkling lights among the dark. Which star was home to my son? Had he found peace?

I had to give voice to my thoughts. Could my son hear them? I didn't know, but I had to try. Try to explain to him why he was dead, when he could have been alive, here with his family.

"Obi-Wan, my son. Long have I followed your exploits, worried about you long after your missions had ended but the stories just out on the Holonet. A mother's love is not diminished by the lack of time, or distance. You were always in my heart, if not in my arms."

"Traitor, they call you. I cannot believe it. I will not believe it. You had your father's sincerity and deep strength of character. It is not in you, to betray anyone. The Kenobi's are loyal, good folk. This has always been so."

I fell silent, unable to continue my heartfelt plea to the great beyond. My prayer for my son; life everlasting in the great beyond that someday we all will face.

My heart will have to speak, for my voice is silenced by the sobs that had so far eluded me. Let the wind, as I stand outside staring up at the stars where my son's soul now resides, carry my thoughts to my son, my long lost son.

You brought so much joy to my heart, my firstborn. Jira-wan and I thought we would never be blessed with a child after years of trying. I was prepared to be sick for months, but you never gave me a moment's trouble. I spent more time in the 'fresher than usual, but that's normal, and you did so much kicking towards the end I thought you would be a boxer, a dancer, or some such.

Your father found it amusing and he would sit quietly beaming, watching my stomach dance under your movements. I wanted to kick your father at the time, but I couldn't. Not when he got such joy out of it.

As soon as you arrived in this world, you were demanding to be fed. You were like a little pygglet; I hope you outgrew that habit.

We found out when you were four months old that you were Force-sensitive and could be taken by the Jedi and trained in their ways. Your father refused to consider the idea. He loved you very much, as I did. I hated to give you up – it broke my heart into a million pieces – but it was the right thing to do, for you. Not for me, not ever. But I would do anything for you; even give you up, if I thought that was best for you. In the end, I persuaded your father it was best.

I hope you had your father's strength. He was my rock the day the Jedi came and carried you away. You didn't cry, not at all, but looked as curious as a five month old can. I held back the worst of my tears until you were out of sight, then I collapsed against your father. My heart was broken.

So was your father's, but he held me tight and soothed me. He gave me the strength not to run down the street screaming for your return. I was so weak, and your father showing all the strength that would make anyone proud in such a stressful time. A strength I believe you had within you.

Perhaps I was wrong, you might still be alive and with us had I not given you up. I am so sorry, my son. I gave you up for a better life, not a shorter and far more bitter one.

I hope that there was joy and love in your life, as restrained as it must be among the Jedi, who are so careful to keep emotion under control. I hope for your sake your emotions didn't run as deep as my own, for that would have made it rather difficult for you, I would think.

I always thought life was never easy for you and I am so sorry if this is because I gave you up. I never expected to hear of you, or see you, and it would have been easier had this been true, though I always thought of you and wondered how you were doing.

I saw you at your master's cremation on Naboo. I was horrified: my son had been forced to kill another being. I understood, but I never wanted my son to have to kill another being. I saw your eyes, and your sadness, and I wanted to snatch you into my arms and tell you it would be okay. But you were a grown man, a stranger to me, and I could only watch and pray for you.

I thought my worse dreams had come true when I next heard of you, fleetingly, in a report about the Geonosis battle. Something about you being captured, and the Jedi rescuing you, with a massive battle ensuing. I never did hear the details, all I could think about was my Obi-Wan, captured, fighting – and then I saw you, just a glimpse, and you looked so exhausted, yet you were helping this young man who was wounded. My heart sang with joy: you had survived, when so many Jedi had not.

The Clone Wars had started, as the Holonet soon dubbed it. I would hear your name, not often at first, but then more and more. Every time I saw you – I devoured the news for glimpses of you, to see that you were okay – your eyes were pained and worn. Did your eyes ever sparkle? Did you ever have cause to laugh?

Did I do right to give you to the Jedi? Would you have chosen that life for yourself?

They said you were a Jedi Master – that means you could reach and access this Force the Jedi cherish. Was it a burden, or a blessing?

The world is so topsy-turvy right now. Politics makes my head spin. What does it mean, the Republic is now an Empire, and we are safer because of this? It means only one thing to me – I have lost the son I never knew, and always loved.

I do not care that they call you traitor, or murderer. If you ever did betray someone, it would be only because they betrayed goodness, if you ever murdered anyone, it was to protect your own life. Had there been evil or deceit in you, I would have seen it in your eyes. A mother might deny it, but it would be there.

Your eyes, Obi-Wan, were only sad. I fear life was full of sadness for you.

I pray you found peace; I pray that you had moments of joy during your life. I thank the stars for the five months I had you.

Sleep easy, my son. When I see the stars twinkle, I will hope it is your eyes sparkling with life, when the wind blows I hope it carries your voice and in the deep silence of the night, I hope it is your ears, hearing my voice saying I love you.

I hope my prayer reaches you.

I


End file.
